


Days of Old

by GlutenFreeWaffles



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mental Breakdown, One Shot, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 19:20:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlutenFreeWaffles/pseuds/GlutenFreeWaffles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Tony and Steve separate after a fight several months ago, Pepper and Bruce try to help Tony regain self stability.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days of Old

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Capsicles-and-Iron-Hearts](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Capsicles-and-Iron-Hearts).



Tony had an impressive history of not liking therapists. 

When mindless sex and never ending hangovers didn't seem to help him after his parents death nearly 23 years ago, Obie had suggested seeing a psychiatrist as an 'emotional outlet'.  
Apparently, not attending their funeral was considered a red flag. 

That, of course, never helped. He'd show up and he'd whine about whatever the shrink wanted to whine about, and then he'd leave $100 poorer, still unfulfilled. 

And then he grew up.  
… In the most infantilized sense of the term, of course.

He stopped fucking around with his own and other people's lives. Granted, it took a blow to the chest, open-heart surgery with no anesthetics, and kidnapping to finally screw his head in tight with a wrench of reality, but he grew up nonetheless. 

And then there was Steve. The human embodiment of all those years in therapy combined, topped off with a resentment dipped cherry. The fact that Loki had used magic to turn the entire team against each other upon first impression didn't exactly help either. 

And so now here was Tony, in therapy again.  
Not because he hated Steve Rogers.  
But because he had loved him. 

\--

It had been three days since the last time Tony slept. 

The spaces beneath his eyes were dark and prominent, and his skin was looking more pallid than usual. 

His fingers tended to jitter and shake when he tried to move anything. And in the last week, he had created a new pair of gauntlets, designed three new portable suits, and upgraded JARVIS’s system… twice. 

He was busy mapping out plans for a more efficient battery source when something cool and smooth hit his wrist. 

It was a plate, with a pastrami sandwich sitting neatly atop it. Mustard dripped onto the china and sharp little toothpick held it all together.

“Thought you might want to at least try eating something.” Pepper’s voice tried to hide its concern by coming out dry, but trickles of sympathy seeped through anyway.  
Getting Tony to eat was a difficult task, it had always been and it probably always would be. Ever since the fight, he’d lost six pounds and asked Happy only once to make a food-shopping errand. 

“Thanks,” Tony said absent-mindedly, only glancing at the sandwich for a mere second before, repositioning his attention back to the blue print. 

She stood there, watching him and waiting for him to take a bite. When he didn’t, she nudged it closer. “Come on,” she urged, trying to block Tony’s view of the 3D image projected in front of him. He continued to ignore her, only responding by shifting his eyes to get a better view of the project.

“Goddam- Eat it Tony!” 

Tony didn’t budge an inch. He was as stiff as a corpse and as stubborn as a mule. “Not hungry.” 

“Really?” she asked, crossing her arms with authoritative-like sternness. “When was the last time you ate?” 

“Yesterday,” he lied, still not making eye contact. 

Pepper sighed, and had Tony known better, she might as well have breathed a little fire. “Mr. Stark, for the sake of your health,” she said coolly, “I really think you should eat the sandwich.” 

Annoyed by her hovering persistence, Tony rolled his eyes, took a disgustingly large bite just to smite her, and then continued working. 

“Swallow it,” she commanded when he didn’t. 

He didn’t want to. He’d literally bitten off more than he was able to chew and the overwhelming taste of meat and mustard and… was that pretzel bread? Gulping it down felt like downing on poison. It ached its way harshly down his throat. His stomach, so neglected these past few weeks, saw this new bit as a blessing, and devoured it quickly, making Tony’s abdomen churn in pain. What normally would have been his favorite sandwich, now just looked back at him with the eyes of a torture device. But then again, nothing ever seemed to go ‘normally’ anymore. Not since Steve left. 

Pepper seemed satisfied in the most minimal sense, and removed the plate from Tony’s view. “Have you spoken with Banner, this week?” 

“No. I’m busy, Pepper, why would I speak to Banner?” 

“Because he’s been trying to help you.” She was calm, but bitter, and made the acid on the edge of her tongue notable. “He’s been very nice to volunteer as your therapeutic guid-“

“Don’t say ‘therapeutic’.” 

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Fine. He’s been listening to you. Isn’t that what matters?” 

Tony didn’t answer. He instead used his hand to sweep away a bothersome trinomial that had been continuously screwing up his math. 

She watched, sympathetically, hoping her words were reaching him. “… And I’m here to talk too, Tony. I know Steve’s absence hasn’t been easy on you-“ 

“I keep making his damn coffee,” Tony interrupted, his eyes still fixated on the holographic image. “Keep thinking he’ll come out of the gym each morning to get it, like he used to do. He never does anymore.” 

“I know,” was all Pepper could say. 

“We haven’t spoken to each other in six months…” He continued, his shaky hands working faster than before. “… I still love him, Pep. I can’t live with myself knowing he may never hear me tell him that again. I keep trying to reach him but… Fuck, I hate this.” 

“I know.” She repeated, and placed a delicate hand on his back. As much as she wanted to console her boss and friend, the right words never found their way out of her mouth. “Tony, honestly, you need to talk to Bruce about this. He’s your best friend for god’s sake; you can’t just keep locking yourself away like-” 

“I just miss him, okay? Is that such a crime? I just want to talk to Steve.” 

“I’m calling, Bruce, okay? Tony?” 

“You know, it’s such a fucking turn of events… I love him. And more importantly, I trust him, and- and I know it sounds kind of ridiculous coming from me… right now of all times, nonetheless, but I need him in my life.”  
Pepper had grabbed the nearest phone and dialed Dr. Banner’s number, trying to drown out Tony’s rambles by focusing on the ringing.  
“He was the first person to-to fully get me, you know? I mean… to completely understand me. Not because he listened to me, no… I have friends who listen to me, but understood because he’d been through it all too. And he was immediately able to see past my fucking last name and my fucking social status. And I’m such an idiot for-“ 

“Tony!” Pepper, interjected. “I’m on the phone.”  
\-- 

“Was, uh… Was the fight the last time you two saw each other?” 

Bruce had come surprisingly quickly, which made no sense since the last time Tony remembered asking he had a busy and somewhat secretive schedule. 

He assumed he was having another ‘episode’… that was what Pepper called them. Since Steve walked out, they happened a lot more often. Unfortunately, Steve was the only one Tony would openly allow to help him. 

“That’s your opening statement?” Tony joked cynically. He found himself laid out on a spare couch in the shop. It had been a few weeks since Bruce came around help out with things in the lab, and the fact that he wanted to talk about Steve made Tony want to call bullshit.  
“I mean… not ‘what are you current projects? Or, ‘have you worked out the bugs for your Stark Battery idea, yet?’ Maybe even an offer to collaborate? No. You come in here and ask me a question about my fucking love life. That’s all anyone ever wants to ask me about anymore, you know? Ever since a few months ago, all I’ve gotten are pity and worry, and I’m damn sick of it.”

Bruce threw his hands up in fake surrender and chuckled nervously. “Just a question,” he said, pacing around the lab. 

Tony watched as Bruce looked over the blueprint he’d been so focused on earlier. Pulling up a bright equation on the screen in front of him, he squinted behind reflective glasses, and started switching around numbers and variables. 

When Tony gave him a furrowed brow to match his ‘what the hell are you doing?’ expression, he simply answered, “You’re math was wrong.” 

Stark sighed, remembering how Pepper nearly pushed him onto this damn couch, telling him he ‘needed to relax’ and ‘wait for Dr. Banner’. Instead protesting that he was a math major and knew what he was doing, he wasted his attention on the ceiling. Memories and visions of Steve appeared on it, as the sound of Bruce clicking away on a tablet echoed in the background. 

First it was just his face, and then the time they walked through Central Park in the snow after dinner, holding hands. It was technically their ‘first date’, despite Tony’s persistence not to refer to it as so. Then recalling the first time they slept together. The next day Tony had bought a hideous T-shirt that read “Captain America for President”, which made Steve laugh and caused his ears to turn pink the first time Tony wore it.  
He saw the popcorn they held hands in and the blanket they fondled under. The favorite TV shows they’d watch together in bed and the ones they fought for the remote over. In fact, the DVR was still full of those damned “Jeopardy!”s and “I Love Lucy”s that Steve hadn’t gotten around to watching before leaving. 

He had shown him so many things. Songs they hummed to together and movies who’s characters they’d dress up as for Halloween. They hadn’t decided whether or not to be Batman and Superman or each other this year. 

He smiled at these good times. Smiled to the sound of Steve’s laugh he had memorized. Smiled because he still remembered his Starbucks order, despite how long it took him to finally pick a regular. Smiled because he realized Steve had made him such a hopeless romantic as an attempt to show him how much he’d meant to him. 

“No,” he said out loud. 

Bruce looked up from correcting Tony’s work. “What was that?” 

“No,” Tony repeated. “You asked if our fight was the last time Steve and I saw each other, the answer is ‘no’.” 

Bruce nodded slowly, simplifying one of the new additions to his equation. “When was the last time you saw him?” He asked slowly. 

Tony smoothed his tongue over his teeth, avoiding looking at Bruce by staring at the floor instead. “Two nights ago.” 

The other man stopped, machines and screens around him still buzzing as he started making his way back Tony. “Oh, Tony…” 

“I woke up in the middle of the night and came downstairs to occupy myself and…” He swallowed harshly as these never before spoken words of truth filtered into the air. “He was there.” 

“Tony?” Bruce was by his side now. He took his glasses off and tucked them into his shirt. Touching his knee, he gave Tony that stupid look of pity the inventor lived to hate. 

He took a deep breath and rubbed the hand on Tony’s knee a little in comfort. 

“Steve’s been dead for six months.”

**Author's Note:**

> For my lovely Ellen. Happy Birthday! Here's a whole lot of angst and feels.
> 
> NOTE: A lot of you have complained that I don't have this fic tagged with 'major character death'.  
> Please note that I chose not to use archive warnings, rather than saying there weren't any.  
> Also, I didn't think it'd be suitable to tag it as that, for Steve does not die during/in the fic.  
> Lastly, tagging it as so would spoil the twist ending. 
> 
> This piece has already been specifically tagged for including angst.


End file.
